


Chosen

by Octavianus



Series: And a Million to Two [6]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octavianus/pseuds/Octavianus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival rarely cursed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chosen

Percival rarely cursed.

People hardly heard him talk actually. Not that he’s too shy, mind you. He just spoke when he deemed necessary and preferred quietly observing everything from the back of the room.

It was pretty impressive when he cursed though, especially when he’s angry. Especially when he’s angry at those fucking dipshit cockfaced _wankers_ who were responsible for the bloody mess of a man he found tied to a chair and looked vaguely like his partner who had been missing for four days after his transmission stopped abruptly and Percival’s world went blank.

Cursing was the only way to keep his voice from shaking too hard then. Lancelot said it sounded beautiful, but that might have been concussion talking.

There were some Damns and Bloody hells occasionally. Lancelot seemed to enjoy it when he successfully prompted one from Percival or was able to annoy him enough to get a “Sod off, you arsehole!” and responded with a mock gasp and something like, “Percy! You wound me.”

Percival just huffed and rolled his eyes. But there was definitely a smile he tried and failed to suppress.

But the most natural and pleasing sound of Percival’s curses, was when he couldn’t help it and moaned out while slowly melting into Lancelot’s touches. It was when he was fearless from desperation and desire. When he hissed, “Just fucking _move!_ ” into Lancelot’s mouth. When he writhed under his partner’s clutch and panted, “Shit. James. Oh God. I’m… _ah_ … close. More. Fuck!”

That was a sight to behold.

And no one but Lancelot would ever, in this lifetime, be chosen to witness those moments.

As far as most people are concerned, Percival rarely cursed.

 

**End**


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